“And so I turned, canny for my years, from the professors to the poets, listening—to the lyric tenor of Swinburne and the tenor robusto of Shelley, to Shakespeare with his first bass and his fine range, to Tennyson with his second bass and his occasional falsetto, to Milton and Malowe, bassos profundo. I gave ear to Browning chatting, Byron declaiming, and Wordsworth droning. This, at least, did me no harm. I learned a little of beauty—enough to know that it had nothing to do with truth—and I found, moreover, that there was no great literary tradition; there was only the tradition of the eventful death of every literary tradition …”
—Maury in F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Beautiful and Damned (Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1922)
Notes
-
lect-futu reblogged this from apoetreflects
-
theearthabideth liked this
-
behemothhecatombe reblogged this from apoetreflects
-
awarmdecember reblogged this from apoetreflects
-
velvetsociety liked this
-
vanian liked this
-
swimming-under-water reblogged this from apoetreflects
-
swimming-under-water liked this
-
emidark liked this
-
huong1952 liked this
-
rcdgtrs liked this
-
gracefree liked this
-
ninewhitetulips liked this
-
diariodeinvierno liked this
-
diariodeinvierno reblogged this from apoetreflects
-
natinotes liked this
-
amazingreblogs reblogged this from apoetreflects
-
sawarmack liked this
-
vmkaa liked this
-
awritersruminations liked this
-
apoetreflects posted this